by Sara Cate
“Did you remind her I’m a grown-ass man?”
“She’s worried, Murph. That’s a normal reaction from people who care about you.”
“Just give me a ticket and kindly fuck off.”
He lets out a sigh, throwing his head back and pacing away from me. Rafe hardly has room to talk. The guy has never been in a relationship, and I’m talking never. I’ve never even seen him with his hands on a woman, and the asshole is always alone, so I really don’t need a pep talk from someone who knows shit about relationships. But I’m not going to say that to him.
“She told me about the will,” he mutters when he steps back up to the bike. I swing my leg around and get up, which I know is common courtesy. If a patrol car drives by and sees him having a heart-to-heart with a guy like me, still on my bike, he’d get endless shit for it.
“Yeah, can’t say I’m surprised,” I snap back, full of bitter snark.
“Me neither. She meant well. You’ll have a business partner. It could be worse,” he rambles on trying to make me feel better.
“Savannah’s leaving town.”
His head snaps up, his eyes boring into my face. “What?”
“We were just fucking, Rafe. It was never serious. And now she’s going to make a grip on that shop. She’s probably already at the bank.”
“You’re being dramatic,” he says, squinting his eyes at me.
“Nope. Hazel could have found a girl that wasn’t on the run from a possessive psychopath, but she didn’t.”
It takes Rafe a moment to process this. “Did you know about this?”
“You think she was going around telling people she had ties to the cartel? Nah. No one knew.”
His interest immediately piques. “Cartel?” If Rafe loves anything, it’s the opportunity to take down someone or something much bigger than him. Cartel. Mafia. Crooked politicians. I suspect it’s all about control with Rafe, but the bigger the fish, the better.
“Don’t get too excited. I doubt it was anyone noteworthy. Besides, she was never gonna talk. Know how long it took her to finally tell me?”
Something heavy knots itself in my gut. The sad reality is that it didn’t take her long at all. What, a month? A month of me treating her like a cheap lay, never opening up, never letting her know that I cared. From her perspective, she must think I don’t have one shit about her.
Rafe’s phone starts blaring in his pocket, and he pulls it out and answers with a sigh. “Yeah.”
His eyes narrow and fall on me as he listens to the person on the other line. “I found him. He’s fine.” I can hear Ruby’s voice on the line. She sounds upset. “She what?” Then his eyes meet mine and I notice the intensity. My skin crawls.
“What,” I growl. It’s a demand, not a request.
“We’re on our way,” he says in a rush before shoving the phone back in his pocket.
“What,” I snap again with more urgency this time.
“Meet me at the house,” he says as he turns, and I don’t know what I’m doing when I suddenly have his collar in my fist.
“Tell me.”
“She says Savannah is gone,” he mumbles.
My shoulders relax and my grip loosens. “No shit. I just told you—”
“Someone picked her up at the house. A man.”
My blood begins to boil.
“Let’s not jump to conclusions yet. Let’s just get back to the house…”
But I’m not listening to him anymore. The bike roars to life as I hop on and flip a bitch before Rafe even has his door shut. He better turn on those lights and pave a way or he’s going to have to pull me over again for speeding.
Back at the house, Ruby’s strangled voice is grating my nerves. She’s worried about Savannah, I get it. But I know far more than them. I know Savannah had one foot out the door this entire time. I know she had a man in her bed all night. And I know she’s about to be free and wealthy, without me.
It doesn’t surprise me that she had some guy pick her up. Hell, for all we know, it was a Lyft driver and Ruby didn’t understand. But I have a pretty good feeling it wasn’t. It was some guy from the party who didn’t hesitate when his potentially rich booty call asked for a ride.
I want to reach for a drink, but I don’t. Right now, I don’t fucking deserve to check out and drown in bourbon. This pain I earned.
Instead, I head back out to the garage and settle my weight on my bike. I want to be back on the road.
Suddenly, I sense the presence of someone standing behind me.
“Didn’t see that coming,” Ryder says quietly as he leans against the workbench.
“I’m not in the mood.” I get off the bike and head toward the house to grab my keys when he steps in my way.
“Are you ever?”
“No, not really. Move,” I bark at him.
“Why don’t you just stop for a fucking second? You’re always in such a bad mood, so you push everyone away.”
“Move, Ryder or I’ll move you myself.”
“I busted your jaw once already this week. I can do it again, but I’d prefer we don’t fight anymore and maybe actually have a real conversation.”
I grind my teeth at the guy standing in front of me—my brother. It’s still such an impossible thought to comprehend.
Falling back toward my bike, I keep my back on Ryder. “You want to tell me how much I deserve this? That I should just let her go. I must not give a shit about her after what I said last night.”
“Sounds like you already know.”
The pain in my chest becomes unbearable, like a lump of grief spoiling behind my ribcage. It’s worse than anything I’ve felt by far.
Ryder clears his throat and takes a step closer, holding out a flask. “You look like shit,” he says with a grimace.
Taking the liquor from his hand, I take a quick swig, and the burn quickly makes the pain worse, like accelerant on a fire.
“You’re right,” he says. “You do deserve this, but you’re wrong about one thing. Letting her go would be a mistake. If it were me, I’d go apologize now because I suspect you do give a shit about Savannah. I bet you give a lot more than a shit.”
I don’t answer. I don’t even move.
“Murph, I don’t know why you insist on pushing everyone away. But people will care anyway. Hazel cared. Savannah cared. I care.”
The tension in the room grows thick while he waits for me to say something, but this stuff is so fucking impossible for me that I can’t even utter a word. I want to tell him I care too. About everyone. That the pain of being pushed away my entire life has driven a wedge between me and any chance of me getting close to anyone. It’s a defense mechanism that I can’t rewire or change.
“It’s okay,” he says after a moment. “You don’t have to explain it to me. I get it.” He drops a hand on my shoulder, and other than the left hook he gave me last night, it’s the only contact we’ve shared since he came home. Something about it, feeling my brother’s hand on my jacket, unnerves me.
“I care too, asshole.” It makes me want to vomit at first, letting those words out, but then a sudden weight releases from my chest.
“That’s a start,” Ryder jokes.
It’s quiet for a while as I process what the hell I’m going to do next. He says don’t let her go, but what choice do I have now? I can’t go chasing her down, and even if I do...she’s moved on. She asked me to tell her to stay this morning, and I didn’t. I fucked up, and I may live with this solid block of pain in my chest for the rest of my life, but I won’t go screw up her future to make it go away. I won’t.
Suddenly, a sleek black car comes flying up the driveway, screeching to a halt just feet away from us.
“What the…”
“It’s Tia,” Ryder says, striding forward.
“Why don’t you assholes answer your phones?” she yells in a huff as she jumps out of the car.
“What’s going on?”
I have a very bad feeling, and I’m
almost afraid to ask what has her so upset.
“Savannah was at the office,” she stammers. It makes the hairs on my neck rise to hear the fear in her voice. “Murph…” Her voice is a warning, and I brace myself. “She sold the shop.”
I let out a long exhale, my eyes shutting as my weight falls against the wall of the garage. This is news to everyone but me. I wanted her to do that. I knew she would.
“I know she did.”
“She wasn't alone. There was a man with her. Murph...” Tia’s voice pulls me from my daze. Hazel brought Savannah here for me. Not like I told Savannah last night, but for something far more important. She brought her here to give her a future she once wanted to give me. It was her redemption, her second chance. Her own way of making something right that we fucked up years ago. When I left Hazel, pushing away the family she gave me, she was desperate to fill that void.
And I’m actually grateful. Savannah deserves this. No one has ever deserved something more than this. This isn’t a second chance, it’s a first chance. Savannah had her future ripped from her when that monster put her in his cage, at no fault of her own. Only because she had too much faith in people. Now, Hazel wants to give her the chance she needed all along.
And I’ll be damned if she’s going to miss it now.
“Murph,” Tia says again.
“Tia, I know.” My voice comes out in a bark. “I know she sold my shop to Colin fucking McAffery. I know she has someone with her. I don’t care. For Christ’s sake—”
“She didn’t sell it to Colin. She sold it to me.”
My eyes snap over to her face. For the first time I notice how pale she is, the red blotches on her cheeks, the makeup that is normally covering her eyes now smeared across her cheeks.
“What? Why?”
“She showed up a couple hours ago, and I could tell she was scared. Terrified, Murph. The man with her...he just gave me a really bad feeling. So I went along with everything she said. Told me about my offer to buy the shop from her, and she just looked so desperate, I went along with it.”
My knees start to feel weak. “What did he look like?”
“Dark hair. Not very tall. A smile that would melt paint off the walls, and not in a good way. He wouldn’t let her leave his side. She kept trying to go to the bathroom, and he kept his hand on her leg the whole time.”
I can picture his smug face as she speaks. The way he fixed his tie last night on his way out of the house. Out of our fucking house. That asshole was in her room, and I did nothing. He took her right out from under us, and I was too busy moping to stop him.
I let out a groan, wanting to punch the wall again.
“I know who it was.”
She asked me to fight for her and I said nothing. She knew he was coming for her and I did fucking nothing. I pushed her away.
“Who was it?” Rafe asks, not even realizing he was behind me.
“That asshole came back for her. He was at the party last night. Tia, where did they go?”
“I don’t know. They seemed to be in a hurry. I asked about you...”
“What the fuck did she say?” I ask, unable to keep the tension out of my voice.
“She said, ‘water under the bridge.’”
Those words feel like knives, and for a minute I realize I might be too late. “How long ago was that?”
“I rushed right over, so...fifteen minutes ago? Where are you going?” she gasps as I push past her.
“I have to stop her.”
Ryder is standing near the garage door with keys in his hand. I hear the rumble of Logan’s bike as he turns the corner onto the driveway. Rafe must have called him because he has a serious look on his face like he’s ready to do whatever I would ask him to.
“I’m coming too,” Ryder barks.
I pause for a moment as I look at him. The idea to argue with him passes by as I watch him start up his car. He’s my brother, as much as Rafe and Logan, and as it turns out, even more so. If he were in trouble, I’d be on my bike in a fucking heartbeat.
“We’ll take my car,” Rafe says to Ryder as the two run for Rafe’s ride.
“Go to my garage and get on the hogs. We can’t be rolling up in a cop car.” I toss Ryder my house keys.
Before he jumps in, he looks at me. “What does that mean? Water under the bridge.”
Firing up the hog, I look at him. “It means we have to hurry.”
Sitting in the passenger seat feels like déjà vu. And not the good kind.
There was no option. I needed to give Hugo what he wanted and get him as far from Wicked as possible. There was absolutely nothing worth putting Lucy, Ruby, and Ryder in danger. And Murph.
My heart aches just thinking of him, coming home from his ride to find me gone. No goodbye. Would he look for me? Was I really nothing more than an easy lay for him? My heart tells me no, but here I am, in a car with Hugo. Why? Because I didn't have the heart to leave sooner. I had myself convinced the only reason I stuck around was to hear the will read. To get my slice of the pie, but that wasn’t the truth at all.
I couldn’t care less about any money Hazel left behind. I only stayed for one reason. And it was too late to do anything about that now.
Before long, we’ll be going over that bridge again.
And I’ll do the same thing I did last time. But this time, there is no guarantee I will get out of the car. It’s a fate better than a life in this prison with him.
“Baby, it feels so good to have you back,” he says reaching for my leg.
I’m made of ice. I’ve done all of my crying, and I can’t stomach looking at him, so I keep my eyes out the window, glued on the horizon and the crystal blue water as we make our way toward the bridge leaving town.
“Losing you was the worst thing that ever happened to me. And I knew you’d come back. I knew you’d change your mind and give me another chance. I was a terrible boyfriend then, but you made me see the light, Savannah.”
This is what Hugo does. He makes you feel like you’re the crazy one. Like I should feel bad for him and forgive him. Like I already did.
He reaches up and touches my face, the last gentle touch before he gets rough. I know how this goes. But I won’t look back.
So his hand grips my jaw and he pulls my face to his, landing a hard kiss on my lips, his stubble burning my skin and bile rising in my throat.
With a grunt, I pull away.
“You’re not going to start that shit with me again, are you?” he barks at me.
My gaze returns to the window as I wait for the right moment to take control. He should really learn to stop putting me in the passenger seat of his car.
A low grumble piques my attention. It’s a familiar sound, and at first it does nothing but make my heart ache even more.
Then, I realize...I know that growling rumble. I know the motorcycle it’s coming from. I’ve heard it how many times in the last month? The distinct joy I felt every time I heard it approaching, mirrored only by the overwhelming emptiness I felt when it left.
Without drawing attention, I glance into the rearview to spot him—no, them. The road is quiet otherwise, only a few passersby going in the opposite direction, but there’s a stretch of empty road between us and the bikes. I squint my eyes to count them.
Four.
My heart starts to pick up speed. Trying to look casual, I pick them out as they get closer.
Rafe on the left. Logan on the right. Ryder in the back.
Murph in the front.
They’re coming for me. The realization brings with it a feeling of absolute relief followed by earth-shattering grief.
He’s coming for me. It means everything, and if I had known it earlier, I might not have gotten in this car at all. If he would have given me anything this morning, the smallest sign that we could weather this storm together, I would have stayed. But now it’s too late.
Now, when I need him the most, I can’t let him catch us.
I cannot let Hugo get
near them. Sure, they are four guys, but Hugo rarely works alone, and it would only take one phone call before his friends arrives, with their guns.
It’s a risk I can’t take. I can’t.
They’re drawing closer, and I look at Hugo and see him shifting in his seat. He peers into the mirror and squints, taking in the guys behind us. Then, he looks at me.
“Friends of yours?”
Acting as natural as I can, I shrug and look away, bored and miserable. Then he reaches into his pants for his phone, and I start to breath a little faster. We’re still so far from the bridge, and there’s nothing but open fields and marshes around us.
I look ahead and see a small cropping of buildings on the side of the road: a gas station, a hardware store, and a diner. There can’t be anyone else in danger.
It has to be now.
Gulping down a painful sob, I look at him, and it’s a mistake. He can tell what I'm about to do before I do it. In a panic, he throws his arm out at me, and I fight back, shielding his blow with my arms. I feel a small crack in my wrist when he makes contact again. I let out a short scream and a grunt as I swing back. The car shifts back and forth on the two-lane highway, and I see the terror in his eyes as we barely miss the side rail.
“You crazy, bitch!” he screams at me. Instead of pulling his arm back to swing again, he outstretches his right and squeezes his hand around my throat. His fingers are a vice grip. My pulse gets louder and louder in my ears as I try to maneuver away. I’m pinned, still buckled and quickly feeling the pressure of suffocating.
I have to think. The rumbling of the motorcycles is closer now. Hugo keeps checking his mirrors, and his eyes are wide. He’s scared.
The good news is that with his hand holding me, he can’t reach his phone.
The bad news is that with the spots and darkness blotting my vision, he won't have to hold me for long.
It takes some maneuvering, but I manage to get my foot up and over the center console, shoving it into his leg. The car immediately slows as his foot comes off the gas.
“You’re going to kill us both,” he grunts as I get my foot on the steering wheel.
That’s what I want. The words ring loudly in my still-pounding head.